


self-immolation is one hell of a hobby

by shitfuck edgelord (dragonflame3333)



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Gen, endgame spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-28 08:20:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10827435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonflame3333/pseuds/shitfuck%20edgelord
Summary: angry martyrs are all the rage, it seems.a drabble about the end of days. just as it's always darkest before the dawn, you're only really alive when you're about to die.





	self-immolation is one hell of a hobby

red gloves for the brilliant crimson of sunset. a black coat for the darkness of nightfall. last but not least, a white-on-black mask for the starlight piercing the dusk.

he blends in seamlessly with the murky red-and-black of mementos, the silver of his blade slicing through shadow. his eyes glint with mischief even as his teeth cut a bright line through the dark. though this world is but cognition, here he feels more real--more alive!--than ever.

(a smile for the camera, a smirk for the judges. show's over, folks.)

he is more like his enemies than his allies would care to admit, but that does not bother him.

takes one to know one, goes the saying, and maybe it's enough to be treated as a criminal to know how it feels.

("we've arranged for you to stay in tokyo," one of his parents says. it doesn't matter which. "you leave tomorrow."

after the initial shock, he realizes he is angry, more angry than he could have ever imagined being, what the hell did i do wrong, haven't i been a model citizen, why was i born if you're always going to look at me with eyes like that, _who do you want me to be_ \--

and yet. this is not the time or place, he senses.

he forces fury back, keeps it captive within him. there will be use for it eventually, but there is nothing for him here. maybe there never was.

revenge is best served, he thinks, with a smile.

and so, instead of going down kicking, he smiles. and smiles. and smiles, until his face hurts and it is no longer pleasant.

"okay," he says quietly--and for a second his polite half-smile splits into a smirk.

then it is gone, and kurusu akira is once again a meek-mannered high schooler.)

it's so easy to lose himself in the cycle of exploration and ambush. justice is all very well, but the thrill of the hunt has its own hold on him. and oh, is there prey to hunt.

he realizes he doesn't belong anywhere but the battlefield.

sure, he glides through the room slick as oil, but like oil he'll never mix with water. will never know what it's like to swim when he can only sink, weighted down by passion and iron. it's fire that he seeks, fire that threatens to consume him from the inside-out.

and in rebellion it is fire he finds. amidst blood and burning and anarchy and adrenaline, he is alive.

he claws his skin off with too-dull nails, and as iron-reddened blood drips down his face, he is alive.

he jumps from an impossible height, and as the wind rushes through his hair and roars through his veins, he is alive.

he deftly side-steps a blade swinging towards his gut, and as living shadow roars in frustration, he is alive.

an unjust world, an unjust fate, and an unjust god will die by his hands. and he will stand at the funeral pyre and laugh.

so what if he's doomed? so what if it's blasphemy? he'd rather die than live in a world like this. where fuckers like shido and kamoshida can have their way, where everyone knows but turns a blind eye.

in a society such as this, the number of guilty and complicit can only rise.

yet he has never been one to sit still as atrocities unfold. the spirit of rebellion has always lurked within him, a shackled beast waiting to burst free.

for the sake of his ideals, he'll set his chains on fire and watch it all go up in flames.

come on, you cowards, he spits between bloodied teeth and readies another blow. don't you want emancipation?

(despite all he's done, they are still ungrateful. he doesn't care. he'll drag them to freedom kicking and screaming even if it kills him.)

(a selfish revolution for sure, but he's never denied that. his justice is his own.)

banish the unworthy. punish the sinners. a fallen angel is still an angel, and it is through the fusion of holy and unholy joker grasps ultimate power.

"satanael," he calls out, and something too powerful for mortal eyes to behold answers. distantly, he wonders what the price is to pay, but it doesn't matter anymore.

a gunshot echoes throughout the world, and it is done.

**Author's Note:**

> why would anyone need to write two char studies of the same character?
> 
> answer: self indulgence and a need to see how many times i can use the word fire before it loses all meaning


End file.
